Inanna rested on an outcropping rock. Her snowy white head was placed delicately on muddy paws while her two-toned eyes stared unseeingly into the water below. Behind her was a large cave that many, or few, wolves knew about. Today, however, she was the single occupant. This place was as familiar to her as the beaches of Glorall. More so, really. It was the place she had been taken as a pup when she had been chased and saved by Everlast and Zeus. This was a place she had returned to many times. It was a place of power for her, a place she had returned to many times. It was a place of power for her, a place she felt as though she were real.

Her time in Glorall was fractured and spotty. Her loyalty to the seaside shore wolves was left wanting to say the least. She had stepped out of the packland. Walked in the world of the wanderers and still found herself lost in time and forgotten. Or she discovered strange places with glimpses of wolves that would one day change her life. But now her life was at an impasse. The seasons were changing, and so was her life. The coming winter heralded the eve of a new dawn.

With spring she would welcome her third year. The world would begin to be at her paws and the paths of life would be her’s to walk. The question posed to her: which path?

Crisp spring air ruffled the shining fur of her otherwise stone still body. Had she not been so white against the stone she would have blended into the rocks. Above her the clouds shifted and at last she moved enough to sigh a deep breath. There would be no storms today. The heavens would now shake the earth with its wrath. Inanna did not know where to go and this time there was not fate to guide her.